


Love and Frustration

by onelastch4nce



Category: Peaky Blinders, Peaky Blinders BBC, Shelby Brothers - Fandom, tommy shelby - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Crime, Drinking, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mild Blood, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Smoking, Substance Abuse, Swearing, organised crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onelastch4nce/pseuds/onelastch4nce
Summary: After all the time surrounded by the Shelby family, you finally realise that even someone like Tommy needs help sometimes. You just have to find out how to get him to accept it.(Set at some point in Season 3 after Grace's death)





	1. Chapter 1

"Come on Charlie, it's time for bed now darling." You moved over to the blonde haired boy who was sitting on the wooden floor of his room, making two of his teddies bounce around together.  
"No..." Charlie looked up to you and shook his head, his blue eyes almost as piercing as his fathers. A smirk crept onto his face, and he jumped up from the floor, beginning to run around his bedroom. Sighing, you smiled to yourself. Half of the time he was good, the other half... Well. In that, he wasn't necessarily bad, but he could be very naughty to say the least. Laughing, you chased the boy around the room, holding your arms out and feigning missing him until you jumped in front of Charlie and wrapped your arms around him. You pulled him up to your chest and squeezed him in your arms.  
"It is now Charles Shelby." Nuzzling his neck, you slowly walked over to his bed and lay him down, tucking him in beneath the covers.  
"So. What book do we want tonight?"  
~  
Walking out of the bedroom, you slowly closed the door behind you. You loved looking after that boy, but he was very tiring.  
Caring for him was really only a voluntary job you did, given that you worked a certain magic when it came to calming Charlie down, and Polly offered the job to you as even she knew that Tommy needed some help. So you took the offer, and for a while now you'd been living at the mansion indefinately.  
Being a friend of the Shelbys for multiple years meant that you were trusted by them, and always welcome around the houses, both in the small back-to-back houses in Small Heath and the grand mansion owned by the middle Shelby. You knew how each of the brothers acted, how their attitudes would change when subjected to different situations and circumstances, how seeing different people could flip a switch inside them and mean that the next few days would be hell. And you definitely knew that Tommy's way of getting over Grace's death was sleeping with barmaids and maids, secretaries and office girls, and any other girl he could get his hands on. Literally.   
And yes, that did mean you. In your mind, you were closer to him than any of the other girls he'd fucked. But then again, you could never be sure of what _he_ felt. Usually, it was just a one-night thing, but sometimes Tommy would just have them whenever and wherever he wanted, leaving them almost immediately after he'd had his way. Even women who didn't live in Birmingham, or hadn't been there for very long would submit themselves to him just for the feeling of being with the Peaky Blinders leader.  
This, however, was not the case when you were together. Or at least it didn't feel like that for you. Whenever he touched you, even if it was only to brush your hair behind your ear, you could sense the feeling and emotion that he felt for you. And even though you knew that you were one of many women who thought Thomas Shelby cared for them, at least you had a reason- he'd actually speak to you when not pressing himself against you and moaning your name. Aside from that, there were only so many hours of the day or night when you weren't with him, either intimately, or for business reasons. The jobs, the family/business meetings, the family arguments - you were always there. On the jobs, you had sometimes been used as eye candy, but when eye candy has a gun, it can get nasty. And boy did you know how to use a gun.   
~  
Your neck twinged as you walked down the stairs to the living room, from which you heard the quiet mumble of voices from within. As you placed your hand on the handle, you made out the deep, and completely discernible voice of Tommy. Who he was talking to you had no idea, but there was one thing certain about it - it belonged to a woman.  
A frown sunk into your features. Tommy was meant to be at a meeting with another big gang boss from London, talking about how he could expand the Peaky Blinders. You'd been told by Tommy himself that he couldn't see you tonight because the meeting would take at least two hours. That was why you were the one who put Charlie to sleep.  
You gritted your teeth with frustration and opened the door gradually until it was about five inches open.  
Lizzie Stark was sitting next to Tommy on the dark brown sofa. For a while now she had been a secretary to the company, but that didn't mean she made any Warwickshire mansion visits. Unfortunately, with all your time at the company, neither of you had ever 'warmed' to each other. Paperwork was strewn on the small table in front of the pair, probably contracts and the like. However, you weren't interested in that. You were more interested in the female hand placed on Tommy's shoulder. He looked slightly uncomfortable but made no outward attempt to stop her.  
"You seem quite stressed lately..." The feminine voice reached your ears and made you wince. You couldn't stop your mind from shouting out the same question - What was she doing here now?  
"Well yes...I suppose." His icy blue eyes moved from her to the papers in front of him. " Um... With this races situation, I think that the number reports you've written should be-" The brunette's eyes rolled, obviously annoyed at the vigour with which he was disregarding her advances. Lizzie made up her mind. Leaning forward, she pulled Tommy's face to hers by his chin, joining their lips in a relatively passionate kiss.  
You couldn't take it any longer. You prayed in your mind that he wouldn't succumb to her wiles, but you supposed that in his mind, he needed this to feel strong - to distract him. She was sucking him into her mind, and knowing Tommy's mindset - you knew she'd end up in his bed.  
Your eyes wondered up from the floor you were looking at during thought, and got the exact evidence you needed to confirm this. Tommy was now leaning in, his eyes closing as he let his guard down. Her hand had travelled up to his crotch, and was gently stroking the top of his thigh, their mouths now taking in each other's tongues.  
Fists now clenched of their own accord, you pushed the door open fully and approached the two, who pulled away from each other. Tommy stood up in surprise, looking guilty at the situation you'd found them in. As much as you could you retained your composure, trying not to let too many emotions affect your stance.  
"Sophie?" You clenched your jaw as Lizzie spoke your name, glaring as subtly as you could at her somewhat flushed face. Memories of what had happened between her and Tommy clouded your mind, your body becoming ridged. "I thought you would have gone to bed by now. Not exactly a night owl are we?"  
Your eyes slid to meet Tommy's, holding his gaze before making him break the stare as if you were delving into his soul. Your Y/E/C eyes could do that sometimes.  
"I've put Charlie to sleep. Now I think I heard Frances saying she needs to talk to you." You narrowed your eyes slightly as Tommy's stance changed, eyes hardening as he realised what you were doing. Your heartbeat quickened.  
"I think it's time you were leaving Lizzie." Words had never felt so satisfying as they left your mouth. The brown haired woman looked up to Tommy, obviously expecting him to order her to stay, but she only found his eyes stuck to you.   
"I'll get someone to drive you home, Lizzie..." Tommy mumbled as he briefly turned to look at the woman beside him, something in his stare showing her that nothing further was going to happen that night.  
Lizzie scoffed, standing and collecting her coat before walking as sultrily as she could out of the living room, followed closely by yourself. You both paced down the hall to the large oak front door, and you opened it for her, barely resisting the urge to push the woman out into the night.  
Before she walked out, Lizzie turned to you, pursing her lips. "You know he won't ever have feelings for you. He's just looking for a quick fuck. And that's what I'm offering him." Her eyes looked back down the hall to the living room. "Sooner or later he'll take it again. And you won't always be there to stop him."


	2. Chapter 2

You stood in front of the door, closing it slowly as Lizzie finally left. A knot in your stomach was forming as you turned and walked back to the living room, containing an undoubtedly enraged Blinder. You wrung your hands, knowing there was no way he'd see the reason why you interrupted the two. Reality dawned a few minutes too late.  
"What the fuck was that Sophie?" Tommy shouted as you re-entered the room. You walked over to the sideboard, facing away from Tommy as he moved to the door you'd just entered through, slamming it in his anger. Hands reaching for a glass and a bottle of whiskey, you slowly poured a drink for yourself. For a few moments, there was silence aside from the clinking of the bottle on the glass, and you consumed the contents eagerly.  
Before you could begin to reply to his words he was standing behind you, turning you around with absolute ease before clasping his left hand around your neck, right hand holding your left down. He pushed you back into the wall.   
"You think you can come in here and do what the fuck you like involving _my_ business? Why?!" Your breath began to race at his sudden anger. The hand on your neck wasn't clasped tightly, but you knew if you did anything wrong, he could bring it together until he'd crushed your neck. Not that he ever would, so there was no point in fighting him as it would only make things worse. His dominance had been challenged, by you.  
"Tom, please...I was trying-trying to help you..." You only spoke those few words in a bid to try and calm him, while trying to hide the emotions which compelled you to take control before. Your eyes watered as you hurriedly tried to think of what to tell him. Tommy's fingers were now gradually digging into your neck, causing five different dull pain points. "It's not good for you... Being with Lizzie so often. You don't need her... Let me help you." Your heart was pounding in your chest, a single tear running from your eye and onto Tommy's hand.   
"I don't need any fucking help. Not from you, not from anybody..." Tommy growled in your ear through gritted teeth. His eyes were hard, their ice-blue colour translating into a harsh stare into your soul.  
"Tommy...Please..." He gave you one last piercing look, sharp jawline emphasised in his utter vexation, before releasing your arm and neck, and storming out of the room, leaving on your own. Tired and weakened, you slowly slid down the wall, rubbing your throat a little and trying not to make a noise. After a few minutes, Frances walked into the room, a shocked look appearing on her face as she saw you.   
Quickly she walked over to you, tilting her head in concern. Ever since you'd moved to the mansion she had always looked after you with a genuine warmth which translated into a particularly close relationship between you and her. "Miss Evans are you ok? What has he done to you?" She whispered, placing her hands around your waist and helping you up, waiting for you to say something. After a moment you shook your head, sighing deeply. "I was trying...to help..."  
Frances' eyes widened as she gently stroked your hair. "Oh...I'll help you upstairs, Miss." You tried to calm yourself, but your heart kept thudding in your chest as Tommy angry face flashed in your mind.   
~  
Your eyes fluttered open as the light from outside poured through your curtains. Your hand slowly moved up to your throat, remembering what happened the night before. Sighing, you sat up and thought about what you should do, and how you should handle the situation. Biting your lip, you decided to try and find Tommy, and talk to him, maybe about his rendezvous with Lizzie...and what he did afterward.   
You put a dark red skirt on, and pulled a loose white shirt over your chest and tucked it into your skirt. Quickly, you caught yourself in the mirror and were startled. Eyes slightly puffy, hair a mess, but not marks left from last night...You knew he didn't hold you that strongly. Suddenly, you heard a subtle knock at your door, and took a deep breath before saying "Come in" as normally as you could. The door creaked open and Polly walked in, sympathy plastered on her face.   
"I just came by to see if you were ok?" Immediately you frowned in confusion, your eyes taking in the woman before you - she wasn't supposed to be anywhere near here. Still, a small smile pulled at your mouth, and you walked up to the brown-dress-clad woman. "I'm ok, Pol, thank you. What're you doing here?" The woman before you bit the inside of her lip as her hands moved to hold yours. "Well, the housekeeper...Frances I think, she called late last night, asking me if I could come up this morning. She told me what happened Sophie. Or at least as much as she knows." Polly's dark eyes looked softly at you and her hand moved to cup your face. "Oh...Well thank you so much for coming up Pol, really. Um...have you seen-" Before you could finish your sentence, she interrupted you, suddenly slightly fearful eyes reaching into yours, knowing exactly who you were talking about. "I haven't really seen Tommy this morning... Maybe you should come downstairs... I'll make you some tea." You frowned, a worry consuming your face. Before you could enquire as to the situation, Polly was heading down the stairs. You followed her out of your room and down the stairs, calling after her. "Pol? What's going on?" Trying to hide the fear and anger in your voice didn't really work, but you didn't care. You were afraid. And you were angry. You looked in all the rooms you passed on your way to the kitchen, trying to find Tommy.   
"Polly. Please tell me. Where's Tommy?" You entered the kitchen, seeing Poll standing over the sink.   
"Um...He's... On a job. Tommy arrived at back in Small Heath in the early hours...After calling all the boys up, getting them to meet him there. They left at about 6..." Her face was filled with regret.   
"But... He's on a job? I didn't realise they had one?" Polly bit her lip, avoiding your eyes.   
Sighing, you saw her make her mind up. "Tommy made a decision for them to go and sort out one of the American gangs from the outskirts of Birmingham. Tommy ordered for everyone to do it this morning."   
Your eyes widened in shock, breathing elevated. "But... they said they'd never go to that area again! I thought Abby Gold and his lot were dealing with that? What about last time?!" Pol nodded her head and walked up to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I know... but he wasn't right this morning... something was... different. Wrong." She glanced at your neck. "I just hope he doesn't do something stupid."  
You shook your head, pushing her hand away and grabbing her gaze with your frantic eyes. "Polly. We have to go back to Small Heath now."   
~  
The next few hours were hell for you. Knowing that you wouldn't be able to stop Tommy from going outside the Blinder's 'territory' ate at you as you were driven towards Birmingham, but you just had to be there for the aftermath. Polly understood but you could see that even she was seriously worried. After arriving back at Watery Lane you ran into the old house and spent most of the afternoon pacing around the living room and wondering about what was going on with the boys... Or more importantly... Tommy. You wanted to wonder how, after what happened the night before, could you feel like this... Feeling like if anything happened to him it was your fault? All you had been trying to do was help Tommy, protect him. But all he wanted was to protect his image. The Peaky Blinders boss getting help from a girl? A simple 'asset' to the gang and Shelby Company Ltd? No. But, there was nothing you wanted more than for him to just be...safe.  
~  
You turned around in shock as the front door slammed shut. There were multiple voices, each talking or shouting angrily as loud groans of pain accented them. Your eyes widened as you realised that something must have happened with the job. Moving as fast as you could, you walked to the door of the living room and pulled it open, but the sight in front of you made you wish you hadn't. Arthur and Isaiah were helping Tommy through the hallway. Even from where you were standing you could see the large wound in his left shoulder, and the pain on his face.   
Polly noticed you standing in the doorway, and rushed over to you. "Fuck Sophie...he's...he was shot. Close range." She closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them again, they were wide and pleading. "You...We need to do something... I know your mother taught you a couple of things while she was a nurse..." You looked down into her hands and saw a small metal tray with tweezers, a needle and medical thread sitting on it.   
"I...I...I'll try...". Before long, Tommy had been placed on the table in the kitchen, facing up with his face struggling to deal with the pain. His brothers removed his bloodied jacket and shirt, and soon after nearly the whole family was in the next room shouting about the ruined job.   
~   
You sat next to him at the table, biting your lip in concentration as you slowly pulled the bullet from his flesh and winced at the size of it, gently cleaning the wound with pure alcohol and a cloth. Arthur and Michael were standing top and tail of Tommy, holding his arms and legs in place as he writhed in suppressed pain, cries and profanities falling from his mouth. Sighing, you dropped the bullet on the metal tray, and picked up the thread. You could tell he was trying to stay strong and containing a lot of the pain within him, and this realisation stabbed at your heart. Carefully, you pushed the needle through his skin and sewed up the wound. Once you were finished, you stood and walked over to the sink, wanting to wash the blood from your hands. But instead of turning the tap on you lifted them in front of your face. All the blood...It nearly broke you. A small sob leaving your mouth, you grabbed the soap bar off the side of the sink, and began to scrub the blood staining your hands away. It was your fault. You pushed him to the edge. He was trying to prove his masculinity - that he didn't need help. He was Tommy Shelby. He thought that was enough.   
~  
You sat next to Tommy all through the afternoon and into the night, wiping the blood from his shoulder, and running your finger slowly over the other scars and tattoos on his chest. He'd fallen asleep not long after you'd finished, and taking in his face, you wished that he could accept help when he needed it. When he knew he needed it. While you were stuck in your thoughts, Tommy began to move and mumble, until his left hand flew up to your wrist and grabbed it, pulling it away from him. You gasped in shock, registering what Tommy was saying "Sophie...It was...I thought...In the bleak...Midwinter." Then his body went limp, as he fell back to sleep. You sighed in relief, but tears pricked in your eyes.   
The vow...promise...Extra time. He had thought he was going to die.


	3. Chapter 3

The next couple of days were hell for the whole family. Tommy was the one who held the group, the business, and the family together, who made the plans and kept everything in order. Well, as much order as was possible. But with him laid up in bed, confusion swept softly over the Shelby family, halting business and worrying you more than normal disputes. You changed Tommy's bandages twice a day, hoping that he would recover from the wound and blood-loss.   
Over the first few days of his recovery, you tried to avoid any 'contact' with Tommy. While you were treating him you changed the bandages and cleaned his wound, then left with no talking. Sometimes he'd say your name softly, not fully conscious with the morphine injection you gave intermittently to ease the pain.   
The argument of 'whose fault it was' and 'why the job went wrong' had morphed into regular conversation, with venomous undertones being included in normal sentences. No one but you and Polly knew about the events of the night before. You had pleaded with her to make sure she would not say anything, but it didn't take much persuasion. She looked deep in to your Y/E/C eyes, and in that instant, you knew that she understood how you felt. What you were thinking, and what you wanted. "Don't worry, Y/N. I won't say anything, it's his fault this happened. His... 'insecurities'." One of the knots that had formed in your stomach finally released itself, with the sound knowledge that the incident would be kept private.   
As Tommy's injury healed, and he became less reliant on drugs the relieve the pain, you asked Polly to take over your nursing duties. After long hours contemplating what to do, you decided this was best, given that you couldn't face talking to him after the 'incident'.   
One part of you wanted to rush to him and apologise, saying how you should never have interfered in his life, but the other part wanted to question him as to why he felt so insecure when someone was helping him, and tell him that he needed help. You knew he had to be independent and strong in order to lead the family, and run the Peaky Blinders, but when it came to his emotions, you felt that he was scared. Scared to open himself up to others for fear of the past repeating itself. The things or people he loved and needed, being taken away from him. Leaving him helpless, and with no other option but to build walls around his feelings.   
~   
After just over a month of nursing, Tommy had nearly fully recuperated, and had started to resume his normal routine, unfortunately meaning that he would regularly be seen around the house, which also meant that while you were looking after Charlie, a meeting was inevitable. Or at least, this is what you had assumed, but every time it was your turn to look after Charlie, Tommy was nowhere to be seen. And yet, when Polly or Ada took him, you'd seen Tommy fondly looking at his son, and making small talk with whoever was looking after him with ease.   
You wanted to feel relieved. Of course you did. But the feelings within you stirred an unfortunate sense of jealousy. You wanted him to talk to you, no matter what tone the conversation would take. In your mind, it would be awkward, with each of you refraining to mention what had happened. Inside, you knew that relations between you would never be the same again.   
Michael had taken you to the side multiple times, telling you that Tommy had relapsed back into his self-destructive tendencies. Snow. Drink. Smoking more than usual. As you heard this, you looked deep into Michael's eyes and recognised that he was genuinely scared, and he genuinely believed that you could help Tommy. Unfortunately, you had to lie to him, and make him believe that you were too busy to help Tommy. You could see something in his eyes that told you he didn't believe what you had said, but even so he didn't pursue the conversation.   
The night after the most recent plea from Michael, you sat on your bed, a single candle flickering on the table next to you as you looked through a slightly tattered photo album. The curtains in your room were drawn, blocking the moonlight from the sky above. It was 11:34, and usually you'd be asleep by now, but shouting from downstairs had kept you awake a while longer than normal. Everyone was mixing in with everyone else, either in this house or the neighboring houses, or the ones on the other side of the street - no-one was far away. No-one was alone.  
You fingered through the photos before you, memories dancing in your mind. Your parents, siblings, friends. Photos from the war. Your father and eldest brother in English uniform, just before being shipped out to Paschendale. You never saw them again. In your deep and emotional thoughts, you barely heard the handle of your door open, until your eyes were met by the dark figure of Tommy, closing the door after him.   
"Y/N..."


	4. Chapter 4

"Tommy..." Your eyes took in the sight before you. There he stood, in his usual white shirt and black trousers, but as your eyes adjusted to the meager light that had flooded into your room from behind the door before he closed it, you noticed the imperfections on his clothing, and his skin, and his hair. Creases on his trousers, white remnants of snow speckled the black fabric. Cuts on his hands holding blood sparked memories of when this had happened before. Fear flooded your eyes as they connected with his, noticing the deep, dark circles that surrounded them. His face looked pale, slightly gaunt around the cheekbones. As your mind cataloged all the differences in him, you noticed that as he stood in front of you, his eyes never left you, not to look around the room, or even to look at the candle flickering beside you.   
You swallowed, slowing your breathing and calming yourself down. "What are you doing here, Tommy?" You filled your voice with confidence and defiance, but there was still definite undertones of sadness, regret, and longing. He moved closer to your bed, eyes now moving down your body, thankfully not laid completely bare in a thin nightgown as you sat atop the bed covers. Your eyes widened as you suddenly felt the photo album on your lap. As casually as was possible, you moved it to your nightstand and silently cursed yourself for being found wearing something you'd worn... when you were 'with' him.   
"Polly told me how you've been feeling... After what happened..." The pair of icy eyes that captivated you fell to the floor as his deep voice spoke for the first time, memories flooding his mind.   
Clenching your jaw, you leant forward, his comment hitting a nerve.   
"So Polly had to tell you how I was feeling. I thought you may have been able to figure that out for yourself. " Slightly harsh undertones made their way through your words, though deep inside you just wanted to hold him.   
Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but before he could say anything, he stumbled forward a little, using the bed post to steady himself. A gasp escaped your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you were at his side, helping him to sit on the bed.   
"God Tommy...You look like shit...What the hell have you done to yourself?" You sat beside him, holding his hands in yours, slowly turning them and examining each cut and scar. Your blue eyes gradually moved up his arm to his eyes, remembering your first day looking after Charlie at the mansion.    
~6 months ago~  
You stood in front of two great black doors, waiting for someone to answer your knock. A cold breeze blew past you, the sky grey with thick cloud. October. Oh how you missed the warmth of the summer. Your eyes examined the large country house, taking in the grounds and the multiple cars parked outside. The knot in your stomach grew as you waited, the realisation that you didn't know who you were about to meet taking you by surprise - what version of Tommy would you see?   
Suddenly, loud footsteps appeared from behind the door, and you lifted your head up, smoothing you dress and coat as you waited.   
The door creaked open to reveal Tommy, looking confident and professional in his suit. You met his icy sapphire eyes for the first time in what seemed like years (but in reality was only a few weeks) and your breath was immediately taken away.   
A small smile spread across your face, and you licked your lips. "Hi Tommy." He smiled slightly at you, and your fingers grasped the suitcase handle you held in your palm.   
~Present Day~  
You dipped a white cloth into a bowl of water, and began to clean his hands of the blood. Small winces encompassed Tommy's features, and you looked up and tried to calm him. He was rarely so emotional and you knew it was only becuase of the coke-whiskey-nicotine cocktail he'd ingested, alongside any other things he might've taken along the way.Then, you gently wound bandages around his palms, covering most of the cuts. Once you'd finished, you moved further up the bed, keeping your eyes on the floor.   
"Sophie...I did all this...to take my mind off what happened... Off you. To stop the voices reminding me of what I did." His voice sounded calm and focussed, and all of a sudden he was kneeling in front of you, holding your soft hands with his abused ones. "I am sorry. For what I did. I know you were just trying to help me. But...I can't accept help. I've been forced to deal with life on my own so many times... The things I loved have been taken away over and over again...I don't want to involve you in that." His eyes bore into yours, emotions you had never seen before being passed between you. Biting your lip, you pulled your hands from his, and moved past him to stand next to the window, turning to face him.   
"I know what you've been through, Tommy. Believe me, I've felt exactly the same. Well...Maybe not _exactly_ the same, but I do understand." You wrapped you arms around yourself, taking a deep breath before continuing. "In all honesty...Women are undone by loving you. Grace... Lizzie... But they never stopped. They knew it would be dangerous but they continued loving you. They never wanted to stop." You turned to meet his face with wet eyes. "You don't...fully understand. But you know how you felt when you were in love with Grace...When someone is in love, they will do anything to help the one they love." You walked back to the bed. "I understand why you did what you did, but you know I will always try to help you... I won't give up." You sat down next to Tommy, lifting your hands to his face, making him look at you.   
"Please. Try and understand that you cannot keep everything inside. You cannot contain it in your mind." Your hand gently brushed his chin. "You don't know how to express your emotions. That is why you have your..." You moved on hand down to his, and gently held it. "...self-destructive tendencies. Your coping mechanisms."


End file.
